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OOC: This doesn't really have much of a plot, I just sorta came up with it.
IC: The scent of incense hung in the hazy air, creating a calming atmosphere. The only light was from candles placed around the room, all completely white and unscented. A man sat at the center in a robe the color of dried blood, murmuring a chant.
Each word of this chant had a different pitch, and it almost sounded like a song of some sort, sorrowful but at peace with the world. The man's honey-colored skin was smooth, unblemished by worry lines. His legs were crossed and he was completely relaxed, his hands resting on his knees and curled slightly.
His mind swam with distant trains of thought, all idly passing by as he counted his breaths. In... out... one. In... out... two. He counted his breaths up to ten and started again, murmuring his sorrowful mantra as images floated through his consciousness.
There was an image of a woman, and a toddler little more than two years of age, a boy with messy brown hair and wide brown eyes. The man had to remind himself that change was what made the world spin, that it was necessary for the way of things, but with his own universe spun off its axis, it was hard to remember what he believed in, and he could no longer clear his mind to meditate.
The chant cut off and the man stood, tensing visibly. Something had made a loud thump nearby. "Who's there?" he called.
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Song of Isolation, my access rp
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